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Zombie BBQ/Transcript
Stephen: Yes, I'm just meeting my boss' family at a barbecue right now. I just have to lay on the charm and I'll be the youngest partner in the firm in no time. Alright, yes, I'll talk to you later. Stephen: Hey boss, how are you doing? Matt: Johnson, so glad you could come. Stephen: Thanks for inviting me. Matt: Of course. Stephen: Wow, if that food tastes as good as it smells, you'll have to roll me out of here on a stretcher. Matt: Stretcher, that's a good one, Johnson. Stephen: I know. Matt: Oh, let me introduce my wife Gloria. Stephen: Your wife? You must have misspoken, this has to be your daughter. Whitney: Oh, what a charming boy! Matt: And this is my lovely and single daughter Tiffany, emphasis on single. Stephen: You mean emphasis on lovely. Mallory: Oh. Matt: Oh, behave yourself! Stephen: Okay. Matt: And uh… finally over there is my son Mark. Stephen: Mark? Oh. Zombie! Matt: What did you say? Stephen: Romney, I voted for him in the last election. Matt: Ah well, we're democrats. Stephen: Oh, I hope he dies. Matt: That seems a little excessive. Stephen: Dyes… dyes his hair, you know, it's greying… on the sides. Mallory: Oh yes, yes it is. Whitney: It is. Stephen: Oh. Matt: Are you alright, Johnson? It looks like you've seen death. Stephen: That's funny, um… just, just hungry. That's all. Matt: A man after my own heart. Let's eat. Stephen: Yes, that's good. Matt: I hope you're all hungry for some fresh meat! Whitney: Oh. Mark, will you pass the chips? Thank you. Stephen: Do you want a roll or something? Whitney: Mark doesn't eat food, dear. Stephen: What does he eat? Matt: We have no idea. Matt: So tell me about that Carlsen-case. It sounds like a real doozie. Stephen: Yes well, as you know, Bob Carlsen, he got rear-ended by a semi… Matt: Go on. Stephen: So our next move's gonna be to countersue. That way we probably get more money out of the whole...Can I change seats, please? The sun, it's hurting my shoulder, I mean eyes. Matt: Oh, of course. Why don't you come sit here next to Tiffany? Stephen: Okay. Whitney: Oh dear, I forgot the drinks. I'll go get them. Matt: Oh, I'll come with you, snookums. Mallory: Oh, I can help. Stephen: I could… I can help as well. Matt: Nonsense, my boy. You just stay here and enjoy yourself. Stephen: Please. Take me with you. Matt: Don't be silly. You and Mark just stay here and enjoy some good old-fashioned male bonding. I'm going to need that apron back, ace. Okay. Jason: Raa, wraa. Stephen: So, you… you play any sports? Jason: Brains. Stephen: Tennis? Jason: Brains! Stephen: No! Please, no! Boss! Why would you lock the… Ah! Get out of here! I have beaten Resident Evil, four times! Ah! Oh my goodness! Don't. No! Oh my… I kill… ah… Matt: Well, who is thirsty? Oh, my. Stephen: Your son. I was… He was trying to eat my brain, I… I didn't really want him to do that. I…I'm sorry. Matt: What on earth are you talking about? Stephen: Ah! Matt: Well, that happens at least once a week. Stephen: So uh… I just got a text from my grandpa. He has a foot… concussion, so I'll prob… I'll probably need to go give some blood. Matt: Blood, you say? You should talk to my nephew Jeremy. He is obsessed with blood. Jeremy: Ten-second-rule, alright? Category:Season 1